


How They Make You A Family

by Marie_Phantom



Series: Tumbleweed (Blowing In The Wind) [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Loki's Kids, Mpreg, Multi, Past Rape, Reference to Age of Ultron, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Thor Is Not Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Phantom/pseuds/Marie_Phantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The baby in Loki's belly has made sure that the Avengers love it.</p><p>Now Loki's children have the chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How They Make You A Family

**Author's Note:**

> Three to go, and then this series will be done. Kind of excited for the ending, but also gonna be sad.
> 
> The interaction between Fenrir and Steve was based of comments left on Fenrir's chapter by Alli B, which were simply too precious to not put in.

Initially there isn't much interaction between the Avengers and Loki's living children. They are housed on separate floors, with each having their own. JARVIS initially reports that Fenrir and Liesle have the most homely floor, with Hela following, although her idea of homely seems to be pictures of rather bleak landscapes and coffee constantly on the brew. Sleipnir and Jormungandr share the same floor, mostly due to the fact that Sleipnir is the one to take the bed and sets up the spare room as his art studio, and Jormungandr requests and receives a large heating pad which he sleeps on at night.

But it's Jormungandr who makes the first move to integration, when he slithers down the overhead air ducts and bumps heads with Clint, who was staking out there to test how his new (healed) hearing was. 

It's not a great initial meeting. 

"FUCKING HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL!" Clint swears and thrashes around, so much so that the air duct gives way, and both him and Jormungandr plunge through the ceiling and into the lounge that is on his and Natasha's floor. She's sparring with Bucky, so there is no one there to witness their folly and embarrassment.

Clint landed with a solid thump onto his back, and lay there for several minutes, groaning and staring at the ceiling. He could hear Jormungandr cursing and coiling and uncoiling, but his mind didn't want to deal with the fact that there was a 15 foot snake next to him, and so he just continued to look upwards.

"That bloody hurt." Jormungandr finally said and slithered over to the couch, coming up on to it and then curling up. 

Clint finally stood up and stretched out his back before eyeing the figure on the couch. They looked at each other for several minutes before Clint finally said "What were you doing in the vents?"

Jomungandr twitched his head. "I could ask you the same question."

Clint sneered at him. "Those vents have been especially redesigned for me. Only I go in them, so in actually fact,  _you_ were intruding!"

Jormungandr huffed. "I wasn't to know that."

Clint eyed him again and then made his way to the kitchen to make himself coffee. His back still hurt, but he remembers his manners and, when he had finished filling the kettle, he turned to the snake and said "Fancy some coffee?" 

There was a pause, and then Jormungandr poked his head over the couch to look at Clint. He flicked his tongue out once or twice and then nodded, before coming over the couch to the kitchen. Clint repressed a shiver and turned his back, fully aware that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. The kettle finished boiling and he poured coffee into two mugs, pouring cream into his before plonking both both them on the kitchen counter and sitting down. He didn't look as Jormungandr slithered up on to the chair next to his and reached out with his tail for the jug of cream, filling the mug and then expertly pouring several spoonfuls of sugar into it as well.

"You have enough coffee in your sweetened milk?" Clint asked wryly. Jormungandr flicked his tongue out and hm and sipped his coffee.

"I like sweet things." Jormungandr said. His coils came up and he appeared to be hunching his shoulders. "My normal diet doesn't really allow of me to have anything sweet, and so I compensate whenever I can."

"Are you really the World Serpent?" Clint wondered. He had always been freaked out by snakes, but he had a legend sitting next to him, and he was going to be damned of he was going to let this opportunity pass him by.

"Yes."

Clint actively turned to Jormungandr. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You don't seem that big."

Jormungandr started laughing. "I'm not this big in reality. I have magic, and I shrink and grown according to the environment I live in."

"So how long are you really?"

Jormungandr grinned. It was an awful sight. "150 feet."

Clint gaped.

"Not quite world circling, but big enough that I don't need to worry about predators."

"The fuck?" Clint said faintly. "How come no one had ever noticed you before?"

"Oh, they have. What do you think the Loch Ness Monster is?" 

Clint started laughing in delight. "I once spent a whole night sitting by that fucking loch, trying to get a glimpse. Nearly froze my fucking fingers off."

Jormungandr laughed with him. "I'm mostly solitary, but I do let people get a glimpse of me occasionally, just to keep the tourism up. I'm feeding children and sending them to school, I am."

Clint chuckled, and continued to drink his coffee. Jormungandr sipped his, but was fully aware that Clint was continuing to eye him. After a long, slightly uncomfortable silence, he said "You can ask, by the way."

"You were in a different form when you first came here." 

Jormungandr nodded.

"Why are you not in that form now?"

"I loathe it."

Clint set down his coffee and turned to stare at Jormungandr fully, and frown on his face. "But you have thumbs on that form. I mean, nothing can beat hands." He waggled his own in example. Jormungandr continued to eye him, and then his form shifted, his scales running like a wave, before there was a man sitting in the chair where there had once been a snake.

Clint absolutely did not shift back, the scrapping had been in the air, but Jormungandr looked at Clint with his narrow yellow eyes, and then picked up his mug a sopped slowly. He was not naked, but wore a loose white shirt and brown trousers.

"My human form is as unusual as my snake form. I would get noticed where-ever I would go, but I prefer my other form for it provides me with an easy escape."

Clint looked at him. He was unusual looking. He had scales for skin, his green hair was naturally slicked back, and his yes were yellow. He grinned, and his teeth were thin and needlelike. His tongue still flickered out on occasion, and it was forked.

"You might fit in at Comic-Con." Clint said. Jormungandr snickered. 

"I might do, although I don't know what genre I might fit in to."

"Something from Star Wars." Clint mused. Jormungandr grinned at him, and Clint didn't even feel a flicker of fear.

"I prefer Star Trek."

Jormungandr slowly set down his mug and slowly turned back to Clint. His face was set, but his eyes glittered with amusement.

"It is on."

Clint grinned and jumped off his stool, practically running to the remote where he pulled up Netflix. Jormungandr sauntered over and flung himself over the couch.

"Star Wars first." Clint said.

"Original three or the new ones as well?"

Clint turned back to Jormungandr, puffed up like a chicken. "I will not sully my delicate eyes with the horror that are the new movies. It's the original three or nothing."

Jormungandr laughed, and sat back. 

They were half way through  _The Empire Strikes Back_ , the room dark and several bowls of popcorn in front of them when Jormungandr, without turning his head, said "I understand why you hate my mother."

Clint didn't freeze, but his spine stiffened. He didn't turn to look at Jormungandr.

"I'm not sure whether I hate him anymore. But I don't like him."

Jormungandr shifted. He continued to shift until he huffed and went back into his snake form. He leaned over and then took some popcorn. "Aww, snake slobber!" Clint moaned.

"Not just slobber. I am extremely poisonous as well, so I suggest that you avoid that bowl for now on. In fact..." Jormungandr shifted and then used his own coils to draw the bowl into his body.

They sat back again. And Clint had thought the matter done with, until Jormungandr said softly "He was cruel to you. My mother can be cruel, very cruel, and you have very right to hate him. But I suppose that it is a testament to your own spirit and moral compass, that you don't hate him anymore when by all rights you should."

Clint shifted uncomfortably. "He kind of...he has...I think he has been trying to make it up to me."

Jormungandr swallowed his popcorn and then looked at Clint. His tongue flickered out and then he smiled softly.

"Your ears have the taste of familiar magic about them. My mothers work."

"I got sick of loosing my hearing aids during battle." Clint muttered. 

"And my mother said that he would heal them for you." Clint turned to Jormungandr in shock, opening his mouth, but Jormungandr beat him to it. "Some of the guards at the place talked to Hela when they got to her, and she told us."

"You know about everything?"

Jormungandr nodded. "Every thing he did, everything he said. It all got relayed to us. So you see, there is nothing that he has done or said that we don't know about, and yet we still love him, and he loves us. Mama is capable to greta love, and great loyalty, but we know of his other side, the side he fights but so willingly goes to when he is desperate enough."

Clint bit his lip and stared up at the ceiling. "I won't ever like him." He warned Jormungandr.

"I would not expect you to. You're a good man, not a saint.

"Saint Clint, the Patron Saint of Forgiveness." Clint said under his breath. Jormungandr laughed and nudged Clint with a section of his coils.

"I think that position has already been taken, but your ability to move on is a credit to you."

"Cheers." Clint lifted up his beer bottle in salute, and then drank down. For the rest of the evening, they both drank and watched, and went to their respective beds drunk. In the morning, both crawled back to the communal kitchen and sat shoulder to coil, each sharing each others misery.

It was a good beginning, to a great friendship.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Natasha came down to the training room, intent on getting some good workout time for herself now that Clint was busy arguing comfortably with Jormungandr, it was to find Sleipnir beating the living hell out of a training bag. Natasha pursed her lips and came into the room, fighting against her gut which was telling her to leave. Natasha had rarely had to look up to a person, despite normally being the shortest person in the room. Her presence and how she held herself meant that she had never been intimidated. 

But Sleipnir was the first person she had ever met that she had trouble meeting the eyes of. His eyes were _old_ , much older than Loki's or Thor's, and even though he was the tallest person in the building, his own presence made him seem much taller.

He stopped punching and tired around, looking at her. His long grey hair was scrapped back in a tight tail, and his sleepless top showed his arms were covered in lithe sinew.

"Miss Romanov." He said and nodded his head towards her. She nodded back and walked to a punching bag at the other end of the hall, wrapping her hands and then laying in to it. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Sleipnir had still not resumed punching, and had fixed his unnerving gaze on her with a small smile on his lips.

She finished with a twisting kick and the turned back to him.

"See something you like?" she asked, cocking a hip. He laughed and then came up to her, looking down at her with that same infuriating smile.

"Your style is vicious."

"Born of necessity." She flicked her hair and smiled her winning smile at him. But instead of smiling more, his face dropped and his own smile became a sneer.

"Don't try that with me. It won't work, and it only cheapens you."

The smile dropped from her own face and she concealed a swallow. It was rare that her own come-ons were collapsed by another so quickly, or so nastily. She got the impression that Sleipnir was impervious to lies, which made sense, considering who his mother was.

They continued to look at each other, until he put a massive hand on her shoulder and turned her around, back to the bag. He reached over with a massive arm and pushed the bag, making it sway.

"Taps, work from the shoulders." She started punching, intensely aware that his hands were still on her shoulders. She loved Clint, and over their years together, neither had ever cheated on each other (impressive, considering how she usually managed her missions). But Sleipnir was incredibly attractive, and his hands were very large and warm. 

She tapped away, working her shoulders rather than the full body workout she normally got. It was more tiring, and she was soon sweating as her arms started shaking. 

"Rest." Sleipnir said and she let her arms hang, going over to sit on the edge of the boxing ring. Sleipnir sat next to her and continued to look at her with those eyes.

They sat in silence for a while, before Sleipnir said, out of the blue, "Did you really do ballet, or is that from the result of constant kicks with no protection?"

"Huh?" She turned her head to look at him, her face open of all deception for once and her eyes crinkled in confusion. He nodded to her feet, where her toes were twisted and healed from being repeatedly broken. She considered herself beautiful up until her feet.

"Bit of both." She admitted. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the pull of new skin over her bullet wound from Bucky.

"Amazing that you can still walk." Sleipnir said, and he was once again smiled at her. Despite herself, she smiled back. She assessed him once again, and got the impression that he was an easy person to get on with, once you got past the initial frostiness. She ignored her mind which was screaming with comparisons.

"Yeah, well, you got to move on. I can walk now, and I can kick and run and dance and do all kinds of things. You just gotta move on."

"True." Sleipnir then slid his own trainers off of his feet, and she saw his toes spread out. All 12 of them. He then put his hands on his thighs, and she watched his extra fingers flex.

"Do they help?" she asked in turn. He knew what she was talking about and laughed. It was a deep laugh, from his chest, throwing his head back. She laughed with him. It was infectious.

"Surprisingly, yes. Extra grip. And I hand hold more things in my hands with my extra fingers, which for me includes paintbrushes, colours, sometimes prints."

"I actually have one of your pieces." Natasha admitted.

"Clint told Jormungandr, who told me. 2011, the painting of the German Woods outside Fenrir's house. Silent auction."

"It was lovely and quiet." She said, about the painting.

"I imagine it's something that would soothe you after a mission."

She nodded.

"Well, I'm extremely flattered that you thought so."

They sat in silence again, until Natasha nudged Sleipnir with her shoulder. When he turned back to her, she said "Do you spend more time in this form or as a horse?"

He shrugged. "I actually prefer both. I prefer the speed and power I get in my birth form, but I like the freedom this form gives me. I can blend in easier."

She snorted. "You're hardly inconspicuous."

He laughed again. "Yes, but it's much easier to host an art show as a man. Horses with extra limbs seem to attract more attention that what's worth."

Silence, but this time, Sleipnir broke it.

"You have lost siblings too."

Natasha froze. But eventually, she nodded.

"I watched my eldest brother banished, my second brother flee and I carried my young sister into Hell. You understand, I think."

"I miss them." She whispered. She allowed Sleipnir to draw his arm around her shoulders and bring her to his chest.

"I know."

They sat there until the the sun dipped below the clouds, and then went to get changed. She invited Sleipnir to supper, and they sat with Clint and Jormungandr, sharing chicken kung pow and stories alike. It was a relief of Natasha that she managed to find a sparing partner as unusually atuned to her as Sleipnir, who had lost so much, and seen too many things that prevented him from looking back. She got him.

He got her.

It was nice to be able to look at someone as unusual looking as Sleipnir and see nothing but power, and know that he was doing the exact same thing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The dance between Steve and Fenrir was watched by everyone, but none more so than Bucky and Liesle alike, who concealed their amused grins with whatever book they happened to be reading at the time. It was great to watch. Whenever one would walk into a room, the other would immediately spring to their feet and face them as a sign of respect.

The first time this happened, Bucky and Liesle had not been so quick as to conceal their amusement, and both had burst out laughing, at which point both men had turned to them with identical expressions of confusion.

"Why are you laughing?" Fenrir asked. Liesle didn't answer. but stood up and went over to him, kissing him on the cheek before going to the kitchen to make coffee. Bucky didn't bother hiding his laughter.

This continued for a time, until it got to the point when it stopped being funny and started being mildly concerning.

"Do you know why your husband stands up when Steve enters or exits a room?" he asked Liesle one evening over supper. The Avengers had been called out again, and Loki was alone on his floor with Jormungandr and Sleipnir, and Fenrir was taking a conference call in his rooms. So Liesle had invited Bucky over for supper, as he was laid up with a rapidly healing broken leg.

"The same reason I imagine your husband does." She said and served him more asparagus.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Oh, frequently. But Fenrir is quite shy."

"From what I understand, his brothers aren't."

"Yes, that is true." Liesle leaned back with her wine and eyes Bucky. "But Sleipnir is bold because of his history, Jormungandr is naturally so. Fenrir is assertive in business and shy in private life."

"Has he always been so?" Bucky said. He picked up his own glass and sipped. He enjoyed his easy relationship with Liesle, which was different to his competitive relationship with Natasha and his slightly obedient relationship with Maria and Pepper.

"From the moment I met him."

Bucky smiled at her but did not ask. He had seen the tattoo on her arm, and the way she sometimes force, eyes glazed over and goosebumps on her skin.

They danced around each other for another week, until Bucky, tired of it one night, turned over in Steve's arms and sat up to look at him.

"Hhmm?" Steve sighed in his sleep. His arms moved when they were no longer warmed by Bucky's body and his face scrunched up before his eyes blinked open. He looked at Bucky looking at him. 

"What's the matter?" he asked, also sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Bucky drew Steve to him and laid his head on his shoulder. Steve breath ticked his chest and he ran his hands through Steve's hair, scratching gently.

"Why are you dancing around Fenrir and not talking to him? I've never known you to not say something that needs to be said."

Steve heaved a sigh and kissed Bucky's shoulder absentmindedly. Bucky's arm tightened around Steve's shoulders in response.

"He confuses me." Steve finally said,

"How so?"

"I've...read...about him. I think. I mean, I'm sure it is him, I'm almost positive, and having Liesle with him certainly points in the right direction. But he seems to be so different from how he has been described, I can't be sure."

"What are you talking about?" Bucky said, confused himself now. Steve sat up and frowned at him.

"I'd have thought you'd know. Who he is, I mean."

Bucky shook his head.

"But you've done all that reading. About the history you've missed."

"I have, but even I can't read that much history. I've only just got up to the fall of the Berlin Wall, it's slow going getting it all in."

"But he's recent!" Steve exclaimed. "For us I mean."

Bucky smiled at Steve sadly. "Steve, love, some things will never come back to me. This may be one of them."

Steve looked to the side, ashamed. Bucky bit his lip and turned Steve's face to meet his own, kissing him gently. Steve tangled his fingers into Bucky's long hair and puled him closer, to that they were pressed chest to chest. They both ran at higher temperatures than normal, due to their advanced metabolisms, and so were never cold. 

(Neither could have stood being cold again.)

The kissed for a long time, but when they drew back and settled back to bed again, Bucky refused to let the situation continue. "Who is he?" he asked.

"The Great Wolf, liberator of Bergen-Belsen. He's a living legend." Steve whispered.

"My love, so are you." Bucky reminded him.

Steve drifted off to sleep. He had forgotten that particular fact, and ran it over his mind before he drifted off.

The next day, he came down to the floor Liesle and Fenrir were sharing, and when Fenrir sprung to his feet, Steve smiled instead. "The Great Wolf of Bergen-Belsen. I have read about you. Unfortunately, you were after my time, but I must say, I admire what you did."

Liesle watched from the kitchen, biting her lip. But she sighed with relief as Fenrir's shoulder relaxed, and he smiled back at Steve. "I used to read about you, in newspapers at the time. I was very upset when you apparently died. I had hoped to meet you one day."

"I would love to talk to you, about what you did." Steve said. Fenrir sat down and gestured to the other side of the couch, where Steve joined his eagerly.

"I have questions also." Fenrir admitted. But his eyes were shining with delight, and he was practically bouncing up and down with glee.

Liesle smiled as Bucky came over. He nudged her shoulder with his.

"Masterfully done." She murmured.

"I may have talked to him last night." Bucky said.

"I did the same."

"Great minds think alike." 

Liesle laughed and turned back to the kitchen. She reached out an arm to turn on the coffee maker, and t was grasped by Bucky's metal on. It was the middle of summer, and she was only wearing a spaghetti-strap top. The tattoo stood out vividly.

"You have no children." Bucky said quietly. His thumb rubbed over the tattoo gently, back and forth, and Liesle shivered.

"I was sterilised by the Germans."

Bucky looked at her with wet eyes. "Me too."

Liesle smiled a tremulous smile. "It seems that brave husbands are not all we share."

Bucky shook his head. "We are both still alive, whilst out captors are dead. We are the lucky ones."

"I don't tell my husband much, about what happened." She admitted.

"I tell Steve everything. He understands."

Liesle bit her lip and looked at Bucky through her eye-lashes. But there was no judgement in his face. "Perhaps," she said, "I could talk to you."

Bucky smiled. "Yes. I think we can do that."

They both turned to their husbands, and came and sat down with them. Their respective partners either took their hands and laced their fingers together (Steve) or wrapped their arms around the shoulders and drew them close (Fenrir). But Liesle and Bucky felt as safe as they ever could, and settled back to watch their spouses talk and connect over the War they had both fought, and the memories they shared.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

For Tony, it was somewhat disconcerting to come downstairs to his lab and find that it was already occupied. Not by Bruce, whom he had expected to join him, but by Hela, who was sitting at his work station and playing fetch with Dummy.

"Uh..." Tony said, standing frozen on the steps. He watched as Dummy zooms past, squeaking happily as he dropped the ball into Hela's hand and swayed back and forth in excitement. If he was a dog he would be slobbering with excitement.

"Hello, Tony Stark." Hela said, not turning to look at him. Tony deemed it safe to come into his lab and walked to his station, setting down his coffee and sitting down in the adjacent chair. He watched as Dummy snooped around, looking for the ball that had gone under some chests. Hela smiled and watched him.

"How did you get in here?" Tony asked. His lab was password protected, and it was only Bruce and Pepper who knew the code. The others, when they wanted to talk to him, would knock on the glass door.

"I have yet to find a room that will not allow me to enter." She answered, still not looking at him. 

"That's...not at all reassuring." Tony said.

Hela laughed. Dummy zoomed over and gave Hela the ball. He squeaked and waved his clasp back and forth.

"So you came down here..." Tony said. Hela was still not looking at him and he was starting to find it irritating. He liked to be able look at people when he was talking to them.

"I was bored and interested in what you do."

"I'm flattered." Tony said flatly.

"I have always been interested in science." Hela continued. She bounced the ball and Dummy followed it, wriggling. "But it's a bit difficult to keep up with the latest technological when you're busy ruling a kingdom and are actually on a different world itself."

"So you are actually the Queen of Hell." Tony said. He absolutely did  _not_ wheel his chair away, but somehow there were a few extra inches between himself and the woman who _was still not looking at him_!

"Yes. I was born for the duty, and have been since I was 16."

"Kind of young."

"I heard tell that you were of a similar age when you took over your fathers company."

Tony tried not to puff out his chest, but he was Tony Stark, and he grinned at the back of her head. "Yeah, well, I could handle it."

"Along with Obadiah Stane."

The grin dropped from his face quicker than a fat man falling. He rolled his shoulders and looked everywhere but at Hela. "I couldn't have known"

"Of course you couldn't of known. You were barely a young man and he had known you for your entire life." Hela threw the ball hard again and dusted off her hands, turning formally in her seat to look at Tony. He now knew why she didn't look at him immediately. She had pitch black eyes, and not just her irises. Her eyes were entirely black, not a drop of white to be seen. That, combined with an unnervingly side smile, made it so that a lot of people (her immediate family excluded) didn't like to look at her.

"Spooky." Tony said, and then flushed, aware that he had spoken out loud. But Hela laughed instead.

"I know how I look, and yes, to many people I do seem spooky. But it is just an appearance, much like your over-cultivated beard Seneca Crane."

Tony looked at out, outraged. "You did  _not_ just compare my facial hair to someone from the Hunger Games! It's much better than that!"

Hela grinned at him. "I don't know, it's fairly prissy."

Tony sniffed, affronted. "Pepper doesn't complain."

Hela smiled wider. "Pepper loves you. She won't say anything against it, because she knows you like it. And you don't have any ground here, because you actually recognised my reference, which means you have watched the films and retained that piece of trivia, which means you liked them!"

By the end of the speech, Tony had opened his mouth multiple times to try and defend himself, but by the end, he was grinning at her. "You're good."

Hela bowed mockingly. "You ger surprisingly good at figuring things out quickly when people come before you and try to lie to you. I know everyones secrets, even those people try to hide."

"Playing poker against you must be so boring." Tony said. He reached over and turned on his hot irons, pulling out the chest plate of his current suit towards him. Without the arc reactor in his chest, he needed his suits to be self-sustaining and long lasting, which, in the recent fight with Ultron, meant that he had to be able to fight longer. He didn't want something like what had happened, happen again.

"It's interesting watching people try to beat me." Hela stood up and leaned over his shoulder. Her hair was bound out of her face, but it still brushed his shoulder. "Is this your most recent suit?"

Tony nodded. "Need it to be more self-sustaining." He explained. He expected more questions, but didn't get them. Instead, he felt Hela nod over his shoulder and continue to watch.

They continued like this for a while, until he put his tools down and stretched his shoulders. Hela stood back and watched him. She smiled softly at him, and he realised that for once this was a person he could be fully himself in front of, simply because she would be able to see through him immediately.

"Your father would be very proud." She said. Tony froze and dropped his coffee, and she smiled at him and turned and left the room, saying hello to Bruce as he came down.

"Tony?" Bruce asked as he came over to Tony, who was still frozen. He put a hand on Tony's shoulder and the man literally jumped, before becoming animated again.

"She's kind of creepy." He said in greeting. Bruce grinned at him.

"I know. But she's fun to talk to."

"She had a chat with you yet?"

Bruce nodded. "Me and Betty both. She asked us why we hadn't married yet, and told us that my mother was screaming at us to get a move on."

Tony gaped at him. "And you still talk to her?"

Bruce nodded and put on his glasses, walking over to the whiteboard where his formula for inter-stellar communications was sitting, waiting for both him and Tony. "She had a fine, enquiring, scientific mind and she's a delight to talk to."

"And the whole 'I'm talking to your dead parents and they have messages for you' thing didn't faze you?" Tony said, disbelieving.

Bruce turned to him and gave him a flat look. "Tony, she's the Queen of Hell. Honestly, if she didn't have any messages for us, I'd be mighty pissed at my mother."

Tony mulled it over and then shrugged, accepting this, as he tended to do. He came over to Bruce and looked at the board, absently thinking that the basic interface of JARVIS might be something of interest to Hela, the next time she was down.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Loki watched the group in the communal common room as they all crowded round, ready for the traditional movie night to commence. In the kitchen, Jormungandr joined Natasha and Clint as they made the popcorn. Sleipnir was chatting with Pepper, Betty and Sam Wilson about architecture, whilst Fenrir, Liesle, Bucky and Bruce were busy laying claim to various pieces of furniture. Hela was arguing with Steve and Tony about films and what they should watch.

Thor came up behind Loki and rapped his arms around Loki's growing middle. His belly was now big, in the middle of his ninth month, and he was starting to feel the baby kick more and more.

"It is good," Thor said softly, "that our children have integrated so well."

Loki felt a thrill go threw him as he thought of Thor adopting his living children as his own. He knew that Thor loved them as such, and his children all loved Thor, but it cheered his heart to hear it confirmed.

"I expected no less." He whispered back.

**Author's Note:**

> Next story hint: Chapter names will be lyrics from 4 songs, with appropriate lyrics according to the chapter content. The songs are very personal to me, and I believe that they have great relevance to the story, based on the content.


End file.
